


Him

by janine_x



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Romance, angst & longing, retrospective narrative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janine_x/pseuds/janine_x
Summary: A recounting of the passionate, often turbulent relationship between Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Kudos: 9





	Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adult Shouyou reflects with great yearning on his first time meeting Tobio.

Hinata Shouyou had his first official match in his third year of middle school. He was elated with a most exquisite pleasure; he was finally there: standing on a volleyball court as a member of a team, to play before an actual audience. Volleyball is essential to Shouyou; from it he derives a singular satisfaction. It is, after a fashion, his first love. A life-altreing experience occured to him in front of a shop one day as he witnessed Karasuno high school's famed 'Little Giant', Udai Tenma soar for a spike. He soared, and in the act he defied, he rebelled, he exulted. For a long time Shouyou would desire nothing more than to emulate him. That incident is nothing short of formative, not only did the Little Giant offer Shouyou a gateway to the joys of volleyball, but he also provided means of sustenance against predicaments, and premature verdicts. They were akin; both unlikely candidates for the ace position due to short stature; both gifted with an impressive jumping ability to compensate for it.

 _The Little Giant_. _The Little Giant_.

A small individual with a massive impact. In his mind's eye Shouyou would fixate on an image of him suspended midair in perfect form, and similarly visualise himself, then gradually he would superimpose his image over that of his idol's: _alike_ , _akin_ , _the same_.

 _He made it_ , Shouoyu thought, he was able to become an indispensable cornerstone of Karasuno's offence. _If he can do it, so can you_. Deep in his bones Shouyou would treasure his memory, deep in his heart. As bright as stars in the darkest night he would be Shouyou's guide, he would be his saviour.

His friends used to say that he possessed no awareness of anything whatsoever aside from volleyball, and they admired his dogged dedication to it; he remembers having felt continually grateful for that, but he didn't understand why that was. He felt it in that precarious way young people, especially children, peek through their sheltered conception of the world, but retreat all too soon with hazy recollections of horrors perceived, though fortunately not yet experienced. Shouyou was subconsciously aware of his precarious situation, and was being cautious to balance himself lest he fell sideway. Such observations may not have warranted much reflection at the time, as he was still very young; nevertheless, even then, during isolated moments of catastrophic anguish he perceived what he now knows for certain: a passion berefet of any material support is liable to insidious subversion. He still feels grateful for that single-minded devotion that didn't heed many diabolical ironies. Fate has strange ways of dealing its blows, and even stranger of bestowing its blessings. He thinks of this as he recalls, most vividly, his first encounter with Tobio.

* * *

Initially Shouyou was absorbed by the smell, and the novel sights and sounds, he was, at last, experiencing all of it firsthand. As he examines that period of his life, it appears to him that he got by through sheer wilful ignorance. It was deeply cultivated, deeply ingrained, and incessantly practised that it was almost realised. Two of his teammates were kind friends only looking to please him, and had no knowledge of the game whatsoever; the rest of the team was made up of first years who had recently joined the volleyball club; they had minimal practice and were prone to numerous errors. He calculated no risks, no odds, anticipated nothing, and muted any plea for planning.

 _Look ahead_ , he told himself, _look ahead and you shall advance_. _Look ahead and you shan't fall_. It kept him on his feet up to that point, and he wasn't looking to change; he determined not to extend any invitation to doubt and insecurity, and bethought himself safe as he steered clear of the abyss. Eventually he realised he was placing a pressure on his teammates they were ill-equipped to face, and was regretful afterwards, feeling like he abused their affection.

Although he remains quite frenzied with regards to volleyball, he was as a middle schooler–and to some extent as a high schooler–more erratic, giddy, and capricious. Most of his current acquaintances find it hilarious, and assert that they can't believe how he could have possibly been concurrently reckless and maniacal. Tobio, when present, immediately vouches for it.

Shouyou's team was to begin warmups shortly, and he was due to dispense some crucial advice, and reiterate the rules as they stumbled upon a fairly tall group that commanded an instant hush from the other teams. Faint communications were traded about Kitagawa First, favourite to win the tournamnet, and its King Kageyama Tobio. They appeared magnificent, and had an air about them of poised composure, and indomitable confidence. It was then that he had first seen Tobio. He knew not why it was, particularly, the blue-eyed boy whom his eyes were drawn to, but he was instantly compelled. At first he thought it due to the feeling that he elicited a different sort of intimidation to his teammates, Shouyou knew not how or why, but decided he was probably just introverted. As he reflects on it presently, he thinks he's able to identify what that sentiment was. It felt like there was a severance, or rather a discontinuance of harmony about Tobio. He was prey to inadvertent hostilities, as were his teammates.

A few seconds elapsed as his eyes defied any attempt at aversion, and before long he found himself betaken with an admiration of how beautiful Tobio was, and mused how it seemed paradoxical that one could be so delicately beautiful, while simultaneously being widely dreaded and feared. Tobio registered as more forbidding than the rest of his teammates; he looked severely morose, and the scowl on his face appeared permanent. In spite of his abrasive demeanour, Shouyou could not rid himself of the feeling that there was a distinct melancholy about him.

 _Even then_.

During his middle school years, and his time at Karasuno he was afflicted with an unfortunate tendency to grow extremely anxious prior to matches, resulting in repeated trips to the WC. While heading there he learnt who the King of the court was. Tobio told off some of his juniors who were disparaging Shouyou's team, and typically utilised the opportunity to scathe him as well. They had a heated argument precipitated by Tobio's inherent irritability to his candid views. Although not explicitly pejorative, Tobio's words were more offensive to his ears; rather than remarking on his inferiority, he directly questioned Shouyou as to his intent; was he there, perhaps, to create memories? That sounded excessively presumptupus–as if he'd want to generate a rememberance of being thrashed. The mere thought of it was absurd.

'I'm here to win!' Shouyou immediately protested, 'No match is a guaranteed loss as long as you don't give up'.

On the utterance of these words Tobio directly combusted— 'Not giving up isn't as easy as it sounds!' he exclaimed.

His voice, and countenance, especially the inwardly drawn skin surrounding his eyes betrayed a clandestine suffering, which Shouyou viewed as peculiar: a 'monarch' player of one of the prefecture's most renowned schools–talent, recognition, gifted teammates. What does he lack? What is his malady? He was surprised at Tobio's unrestrained reactivity to him, contrary to his taciturn exterior he was a very passionate individual. Shouyou's fervour for victory, his candour, and his misguided security gave rise to an ambivalence that directly overflowed into speech. He seemed effortlessly capable of inflaming Tobio with the simplest of words

Such was his initial introduction to a volatile temper that was especially liable to him. Frequently in the times to come, he would dearly hope that it wasn't only Tobio's temper he was able to engage so intensely.

He smiles, faintly. Although it seems an inopportune time to indulge in such lengthy recollections, of Tobio, particularly, whom for a while now he had actively evaded thinking of. _It was always like this_ , he thinks. He would always overwhelm him so utterly, and then wound him somehow, and he'd have to seal all rememberance for a time. _It's just like him_ , he shakes his head, _and he's not even here_.

That was the first of many a clash between them, as well as the one that memorably birthed their mutual mantra. 'I'll be standing on the court the longest'. He was fascinated the first time he heard it; it appealed to him how precisely descriptive of triumph it was. Throughout the years that pledge would bind them, even when unspoken, and it would constantly offer Shouyou solace in his forlorn infatuation.

During warmups his eyes briefly sought Tobio. Thus it begins. Eyes involuntarily frequent one destinstion, and the heart shortly falls into the same pursuit. Eyes urge hearts, and hearts command all else. He observed: Tobio had his eyes closed, which provided ample display of his eyelashes. They were especially long, and generously layered akin to sumptuous brush strokes. He was standing in a state of absolute stillness and tranquility. To his bewitched eyes Tobio appeared a sublime being of another realm. In that precise moment he was truly unattainable. Tobio exhaled ever so slowly, and opened his eyes; narrow, sharp, adorned with unfathomable oceans of blue. His lower eyelids presented similarly thick eyelashes that lent farther definition to his eyes, and enhanced the captivating blues within. As Tobio's eyes settled on him he felt his soul shudder, and stood transfixed, disarmed of any perception whatsoever but of those enigmatic eyes. Little did he know then that there will be times when they would only impart torment.

He was his captive then; he didn't know why it was that the moment he thought he'd look away, he was even more profoundly immersed. What deceptive blues; just when he thinks he brushed the bottom, he discovers he's buoyed by the shallow tides of the surface. Tobio's expression remained blank as he nonchalantly, almost mechanically divested him of his gaze. He was able to retrieve himself, and almost instantly became painfully aware of his heart rate exhilarating, then he was blushing, then he slapped his cheeks, subsequently recovering his composure.

He wonders why it is that the effects Tobio has on him remain perpetual and unchanging; what drives this constancy? what sustains? and why _why_ was he so irrevocably impressed on his memory; why was he unable to rid himself of this enduring tenderness, this insufferable susceptibility?

 _Here we are_. He felt so serene like still water, and the crowd's murmur and bustle were barely perceptible ripples. _Excellent_ , he thought, _I'm in good shape today_. His senses were rapidly sharpening, and by the time the match began his concentration peaked. The outcome seemed to everyone, but to him, and perhaps Tobio, predetermined. He was brutally shut down almost everytime he spiked; nevertheless, despite what appeared to be painfully repetitive cycles he was tireless, relentless, almost beastly. _I'll make the next one count,_ he would tell himself, _we haven't lost yet_ , _we could still turn this around_. Tobio regarded him with mildly disguised confusion, his brows knitted, his lips pressed tightly shut, and his eyes narrowed with-what he later stated to be-recognition of mutual resolve. The disparity in points extended, which resulted in a lax attitude from Kitagawa First. Tobio didn't take kindly to such behaviour, and was ferociously vocal about it; as the match progressed he grew increasingly unravelled; having had little tolerance for anything short of total perfection. The tension between Tobio and his teammates contributed detrimentally to the team morale, and he appeared unequivocally despised by everyone on his team.

Between every serve and point scored Shouyou's heart was half and half. Half burdened by the growing realisation that they were losing, half elevated by the fact that he could compete; that he could furnish means for himself to score. The heaviness in his heart didn't strip away his vigour, on the contrary, it nourished it. When the match ended he was still fervent for more, refusing to believe his time at the tournament was so swiftly terminated. _It's over..._ He was petrified. His muscles slightly spasming as his energy began to dissipate. The second Tobio's voice reached his ears, his heart leapt, fearful, anticipating, as if every cell in his body had a prenomition of cruelty.

'What have you been doing for the last three years?!' he cried out, clutching the net between them.

Of all things that was what escaped his lips, and of all things, only that simple question could have wounded Shouyou so deeply. He looked at Tobio; he was impassioned, his expression unsettled him–it was indignant, but what pierced and perturbed him even farther was that he looked like he was suffering an acute sorrow; suffering? on his behalf! He was outraged, and his body trembeled all over with fury at Tobio's audacity. He _dares_. he dares make reductive statements about his life, without the slightest knowledge about his circumstances; about what he had been through. He had to carve his way through stone to get there. Shouyou was subdued so intensely, so viscerally like he had never been in his life before. More than the match he felt defeated by Tobio's confrontation; he perceived a severe gravity at his feet, seeping through his legs, and all his fears past and present, all his suffering, and frustration, and disappointment loomed before him, engulfed him, suffocated him. He was thrust into a corner of his own mind he was never aware of till that moment. He felt foresaken in impenetrable darkness.

 _He's right_ ; _Tobio's right_.

He was a stranger to the feeling of the mind's collusion, and it terrified him. Having such an intimate part of him grazed in the span of a few seconds fuelled his rage and dismay even farther. Who may Kageyama Tobio be to agitate him so? What right did he have to awaken such fragility, such vulnerability in him? The implications of Tobio's words were thence embedded deeply within him, somwhere securely barred, and beyond his reach. It would take time, and conscious effort to dislodge the remnant shards.

They separated, each to his respective team's lineup, and bowed. He was quelled into numbness as the tempest within him subsided. Afterwards, he frantically thought: _find him_ , _find him and tell him_ ; _you can't let it end like this_. Although he wouldn't admit it, Tobio's opinion mattered to him; it always has. He retreated almost instantly, and scoffed at himself, repusled by his desperation. What was he seeking anyway? Validation? Absolution? Sympathy? _What_ , _Shouyou_ , _what do you want?_ Resolution, tenuous at first, like dull embers rekindled within him, and progressively gained on his frailty. He knew he was being childish and frivolous; nevertheless, he couldn't help it, he felt an irresistible desire to contradict Tobio; an attempt at salvaging his pride, not in Tobio's eyes, but his own, or so he told himself. He ran after him, and called out:

'Kageyama Tobio, if you're the king that rules the court, then I'll defeat you, and remain on the court the longest'.

His voice readily gave away great emotional distress, and the tears within his eyes were intractable. Tobio winced at the nickname, but otherwise beheld him silently. His gaze, he perceived, was different. It felt less sullen, less glacial, and for a second as he stood equally mortified and relieved by his blunt declaration he thought he glimpsed a softness in Tobio's eyes that intimated compassion.

'Only the strong remain on the court. If you want to keep playing longer, then you have to get better at it' he said calmly.

They parted ways, and for a time, he strived to banish all thoughts of Tobio. The humiliation of that encounter served as a catalyst that beneficially influenced him. He swore he would never allow himself to be similarly degarded thereafter. Everytime he felt himself relax; everytime he felt his knees give out he thought of Tobio. He thought of his condemnation, the tone of his voice, his distraught expression and he grew motivated anew. He vowed that to Tobio, he shan't ever again lose, and once the net was between them, it would he, who remained on the court the longest.

Days, weeks, months passed, but his resolve never waned. He loved volleyball even more, he wanted to play more, compete more, witness more. _I want to be better;_ _I'll be better_. _I'll show him_. He longed for Tobio's face when he'd defeat him; more than anything he desired to look into his eyes and behold the emotions, the defenselessness transpired on them. What else would his eyes say? Bitterness and pain transformed into an ardour so splendid he could barely contain it. It was him; it was always him. Time and again it was him. Time and again it would be him. It was in his power to incite within Shouyou a tremendous and impervious passion, simultaneously enabling and challenging him, but also in a sense entrusting him with an essence of himself, belligerent and rebellious, from which he frequently suffered, but which was nevertheless far too dear; far too valuable to ever be demolished. He required him too. At least for a while, he was indispensable to Tobio. He knows that now; he feels it now. There was a rare vitality flowing between them, unbeknownst to them both, to its surge and ebb they were alternately, sometimes unexpectedly, brought closer, and torn asunder.

The time for the most pivotal step in his scheme drew near; he was impatient to attend Karasuno and integarte himself into its volleyball team, careful to closely align himself with the trial left by Udai Tenma, as if replicating details of the former ace's life would afford him his glory as well. He fancied himself a Little Giant in the making; the thought fortified him against Tobio, whose title, he believed, attested a lofty distinction. He was unsuspecting when he entered Karasuno on the first day of the semester. For all the colossal hopes that pounded within him, he was befell with a most unsolicited reunion. He shook with a complete and utter disbelief. How could he have anticipated that Kageyama Tobio had his eyes set on Karasuno too? the future was already clearly illustrated in his mind, but alas, the single aspiration that compulsively occupied him for what seemed an eternity, was flung back on his face; thus, so simply was such a perverse finality imposed on him. He felt as if he were subject to a satirical manipulation, twisted and bended to suit its purpose. He was furious, and obstinately refused to think of his reunion with Tobio as anything but pure malevolence.

* * *

Warm lips plant themselves on the curve of his neck, tentalisingly parting and re-engaging in tender kisses. He shivers and instinctively leans in, hindering farther access to his neck.

'Miya san—' Shouyou begins. His reflection is arrested, and he is awarded some peace at last.

'At-su-mu' the other man corrects him, as he gently persists with his mouth on Shouyou's neck, punctuating his kisses with playful nibbles. He inhales deeply, and retards his exhale, breathing out very slowly, as though he desires to preserve this breath longer within him, and laments parting with it.

The warmth is pleasant; Miya Atsumu is pleasant.

'You seemed deep in thought for a while, everything OK?' Atsumu asks, as he positions himself facing Shouyou; he's showered already, and was dressed in his previous night's apparel, white shirt unbottomed.

'I'm fine, I just...Did you sleep well?' he asks weakly, seeking an escape from any farther probing, which he knew was not at all necessary; not with Atsumu at least.

'Best sleep I've ever had in a while' he replies, smiling that infectious disarming smile of his. He takes Shouyou's face in his hands, and leans in to kiss his lips.

'I'll be going now, but if you need anything just call, alright?'

Pain abruptly grips his heart in a tight grasp. _You know_ , _you know_. _So just why would you..._

His expression must have alerted Atsumu, whose thumb has begun softly caressing his cheek.

'Give me a smile, you munchkin' the blond teases.

'No. And I am not a munchkin' Shouyou retorts as he looks away, feigning affront. He curses his lips as they spread into a smile despite himself.

'I love me a cute smiling munchkin' Atsumu pursues, before capturing Shouyou's protesting lips in a kiss.

'Think about what I said' are his last words before he departs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning to post this under more favourable circmustances, for good reason too as it seems quite in need of farther polish, but now that I have been ambushed by my thesis submission and finals I don't think I can resist any longer. It's my first time posting a fic; this chapter being my first complete attempt at writing. If by any chance a fellow angst lover reads this and it appeals to them I recommend reading it as a one-shot. The heart says write more, but the mind says don't jinx yourself. I regard this as a fluke honestly, and though I have an overall insight about future development, it's unlikely that anything will come of it.  
> If the pressure I'm under resolves a bit, I will surely take to posting lengthy ramblings about this on my tumblr; writing it has been a truly beautiful experinece, and I'll probably wax emtional for a while.  
>  I hope you've enjoyed it.


End file.
